


Built Upon A Single Note

by dri_br



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bars and Pubs, Diners, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Living Together, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Mpreg, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:59:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dri_br/pseuds/dri_br
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a little samba<br/>Built upon a single note<br/>Other notes are sure to follow<br/>But the root is still that note<br/>(One Note Samba, by Antonio Carlos Jobim and Newton Mendonça)<br/>*****<br/>Jamie just had to convince Tyler they could build their future with Tyler’s unborn child upon a single note:<br/>Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A walking cliché

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a hard drive with lots of tidbits to complete my fics, but inspiration hit me so hard to try my hand at writing about these two! I'll try and make it short, about ten chapters, and have them published before I go back to work. It's unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine.  
> Hope you guys enjoy it!

Hadn’t it been Jordie’s turn to pick up a joint for their monthly hangout with the guys, Jamie wouldn’t have stepped foot into Penguins Sports Bar the night the Cowboys were playing the Steelers. Well, maybe if his blue-collar friends offered to pay him his weight in gold, but Jamie knew the best deal out of their outing tonight would be the discount Jordie always managed to squeeze out of Geno whenever they stopped by the LGBT hotspot on this side of town. Nah, make it a hefty discount. With the place packed to the brim, Jordie’s buddy was sure flying as high as a happy lark with all the dough rolling into his bank account tonight.

Jason and Sharpy had welcomed him and Jordie with a large order of buffalo wings and chilled beers at a table crammed in a corner too close to the bar for Jamie’s comfort. Their view to the three big screen plasmas hanging over the polished bar counter and to the others scattered around the large, moden saloon was compromised at the best. The constant coming and going of the patrons and staff rooting and all the swearing basically made Jamie’s life a living hell with the promises of a helluva headache for the very near future. 

Truth was, being a hockey fan Jamie usually didn’t give two flying fucks to football, just like his friends and brother, hockey fans _and_ Cowboys till the end didn’t give two flying fucks to the queers openly ogling their very straight asses.

Compromise, 50-50.

Jamie smiled and thanked the flaming twink who rang their order and handed Jamie a new chilled pitcher along with a piece of paper most likely bearing a name and phone number Jamie shoved in his pocket because he was polite like that, and turned around to make his way back to their table.

He could have gotten there twice as fast if the guys trying to chat up their way around his dick every step along the way got the clear message that Jamie wasn’t in pursuit of a good time rolling on the sheets in some one-night stand’s bed. Sharpy, Jason and Jordie however were having a blast letting their hands, up and down thumbs and general body language rate Jamie’s wannabe companions for the night, much to Jamie’s dismay and to the amusement of the bunch of assholes Jamie fondly called friends.

He finally, finally reached his destination and set the pitcher at the center of the table, not without sloshing some beer on the plate full of chicken bones and greasy napkins lying around. He had aimed for one of the assholes’ IPhones.

“Took you long enough,” Jason bitched behind a smirk, but making himself useful by filling up their glasses.

“Nah, kid was busy, Demers. Did you see the line of guys hitting on my little bro here?” Jordie threw one arm around Jamie’s shoulder and used the other to raise his glass in salute. “So proud of you, Chubbs!”

“So who’s your pick? Guy number three topped my list,” Sharpy offered a beer salute of his own along with the killer smile that could have the toughest lesbians go hetero and wet-slash-drop their panties at its bright and sparkling command. Hillary’s words, not Jamie’s.

Jamie gave them the finger treatment and grimaced taking a sip of his bitter, cold drink. “Fuck you.”

“My bro Sharpy here I can understand, but Demers, Chubbs, really?” Jordie shook his head and took a long gulp of his beer to show his disappointment. “So many nights spent talking about high standards and shit for nothing!”

“Fuck you, Jordie! I am fucking hot! The fucking hottest definition for hot ever! I can get any dude here fill up that last blank spot in my V-card!” Jason’s indignity was met with a chorus of snorted _yes_ and _of courses_. “I sure as hell CAN! Tell them, Jamie! Tell them what a fine specimen of the male form I am.”

“Does this shit even make sense?” Jordie asked in between sips. “Man, this is good!”

 “I’d glad fill up that last blank spot in your V-card, Demers, but you’re like a brother to me,” Jamie apologized planting a wet one on his friend’s cheek. Then he wrested bartender-twink’s name and phone number out of his pocket and stuffed it into Jason’s. “Give twink a chance.”

Jason laughed, shoving the paper and Jamie away. “Oh why, thanks but no thanks, buddy. I don’t mind keeping that last spot empty.”

Jamie had the long, heartfelt speech covering all the advantages of some good, old-fashioned man-on-man action that never failed to make Jordie blush ready and at the tip of his tongue when he saw a kind of familiar pregnant dude rush in their direction with an order of fries and onion rings Jamie supposed was theirs.

That’s when it _also_ happened.

“Hey gents, good evening.”

“Hey, Sid. How’s little G Junior doing?”

Jamie earned his living by paying attention and being a trustworthy, level headed employee in moments of crises. His position at Dallas Stars Power Plant didn’t afford him to have anything less than a hundred percent of his sense of awareness on to focus on his workplace, and the same level of commitment was dispensed to the guys working under his supervision. He wasn’t wired in a very different way when off the clock, yet every now and again surprise would rear its ugly head, be a bitch and slap him hard in the face, knock the wind out of him and leave him breathless and at a loss for words.

“Killing my back and ruining my bladder, thanks for asking. Oh, G wants to talk to you, Jordie.”

“Freezer acting up again?”

Geno’s polite and guilty looking pregnant husband was irrelevant to Jamie’s current verbal apoplexy.

“Hello, folks. Nice day to have your ass fired because your pregnant boss’s husband doesn’t get the concept of leaving the fucking fries alone, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ty! G won’t fire you!”

Jamie forgot. He simply forgot how to be an articulate, full functional adult because Tyler Seguin, _exquisite_ Tyler fucking Seguin, protagonist of a whole bunch of Jamie’s wet dreams for the last couple of years was right there bickering about _banned to the kitchen_ and _overprotective Russian husbands_ and _stupid pregnant carriers_ and… Sharing space, air and the wholesomeness of him with _Jamie_! The man’s presence alone turned Jamie into a fucking walking cliché in which all the talk about whatever ceased to exist, giving room to puffed out emotions named Tyler, Tyler and Tyler with nowhere to go but to grow and grow and grow inside of him until everything blew right before Jamie’s eyes, leaving in its awake…

A silence charged with a shitload of weirded-out awkwardness in which everyone was expecting someone to fill up the void.

Someone who was most likely _Jamie_.

Jamie blinked himself out of his Tyler-induced-trance to a scenario in which all the burgers had been handed out and he was the sole object of long stares made of curiosity (uh… Sid?), fondness (Sharpy), uneasy lightness (Jason) and confusion (Tyler). Jamie didn’t have the balls to look at Jordie and find the crocked smile schooled to conceal the apprehensiveness caused by Jamie’s boy-crush-turned-love. Jason and Sharpy had known for a while and shown their sympathy for this lost cause, but Jordie was the one to take it the hardest because Jamie: a) was blood; and b) would never fight for the love of a man who was already taken by another.

No dream could survive the harsh realities of life taking place right before his eyes.

Then just because Jamie wasn’t already a goner, “Hi, Jamie. Nice to have you back with us.”

From the corner of his eyes Jamie saw Jordie cringe and take half of his beer in one gulp. Jamie wished he could do the same.

“Hey, ah, hey, Ty. Got a little… ah… distracted… by the game. How’s it going, man? What are you doing here?”

“Not much now that I’ll be fired,” Tyler shrugged like it was no big deal. “It was good the two days it lasted.”

“G. Won’t. Fire. You.”

The guys started firing questions at Tyler about why he missed their amateur hockey team last couple of games, that they were already one man down with Kruger, and if Oduya had finally had enough of his ugly mug managing his husband’s business.

For Jamie all the bantering came to a screeching halt at _fire Tyler._

But Tyler did an awesome job managing the diner during Kruger’s paternity leave! That was the place him and Jamie chatted about their passion for hockey and how their amateur team had played the night before, about Tyler’s online classes this semester. They talked about so many things and nothing at all while Tyler kept an eye on things and Jamie stretched his lunch hour to its full capacity just have an excuse and be closer to Tyler. Tyler’s shift finished at six otherwise Jamie would be there for his evening meals too, nevermind the mouthwatering three-course meals served at Jamie’s workplace.  

If Tyler were really gone from the diner, could Jamie afford taking his meals at Penguins without messing up his mortgage plans?

“Of course Krugs didn’t fire me! I am, _was_ here just to help out a little! And who are you calling an ugly mug, you shithead!”

Oh, goodness, thank Lord! Tyler hadn’t been fired! Jamie could stick to his plan to pay off his mortgage in two years!

“Is that how you talk to the patrons?”

“You’re not a patron, Demers, you are my teammate!”

“And you haven’t shown up for the last couple of weeks!”

“I, I…”

“SID!”

“Shit!” Sid gasped and dropped the tray in his hands, the noise drawing the attention of the patrons in their proximity. “Hi, G! Jordie’s here. Didn’t you want to talk to him?”

At least now Jordie had a valid reason to turn his attention somewhere else. “Leave me out of this!”

“What you doing here, Sid?” Geno asked picking the tray from the floor and handing it to Tyler. “Leave you alone one minute! One minute!”

“Tyler needed help with their order. I tagged along to say hi.”

“Hey man, not fair! I told him to stay in the kitchen, G!”

“Told both of you to stay in the kitchen and do inventory! Place is packed, Sid. What if you fall?”

“G, I’m fine. Nothing happened.” Sid grabbed both of Geno’s hand and placed them on his bump. “The baby is fine, see?”

By now, the drama unfolding in the room and the reverence of Geno’s touch to the safe cocoon housing his kid was way more interesting to the people closer to them than the game. However, all Jamie could see was the longing pouring from Tyler’s eyes in spades, the way he pressed his empty tray against his belly, then how he shook his head and moved to the table next to theirs to start collecting the dirty napkins, empty plates and cups.

“We’re fine,” Sid said. “Nothing…”

“SCORE!”

Geno wrapped himself around Sid and through the chaos of people shouting, jumping and high-fiving each other, Jamie got pieces of Geno putting Sid in early paternity leave, but it looked like Sid was not one to be bossed around. The celebration was dying down and Jamie could hear clearer now.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I can work!”

“Have to be careful in your condition!”

“AND SO DOES TYLER, BUT YOU DON’T SEE HIM SLACKING!”

A loud crash of metal followed by the sound of glass and porcelain breaking when Tyler dropped the tray. Could have been Jaime’s heart and what little hope he had of someday winning Tyler shatering. 

Jamie’s awareness of the bar dissolved into strains of Geno’s voice claiming something like Russian beer the best and free refill to people who got his name right. There was Sid whimpering apologies and Tyler’s voice cracking to say they were cool, ask if he still had a job. Geno’s reassurance in broken English that yes, of course he did.

And his eyes tracing Tyler’s every move.

Tyler untying his apron…

Tyler reassuring Sid with a shaky smile…

Tyler meeting Jamie’s eyes…

His lips moving without adding anything to sooth the pain tearing Jamie apart…

The same pain pooling in Tyler’s eyes…

Tyler biding everybody goodbye…

…a tear falling…

Jamie moving around the table, reaching out to stop him…

Jordie, Jason and Sharpy stepping up to block his way, holding Jamie in place…

…his protests landing in deaf ears…

Tyler’s retreating back lost in the sea of bodies cheering the Cowboys second score.

Jamie calling out for Tyler.

The broken glass crunching under his feet.

Tyler gone.

_Fucking. Walking. Cliché._

 


	2. Tyler, always Tyler.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little samba  
> Built upon a single note  
> Other notes are sure to follow  
> But the root is still that note  
> (One Note Samba, by Antonio Carlos Jobim and Newton Mendonça)  
> *****  
> Jamie just had to convince Tyler they could build their future with Tyler’s unborn child  
> upon a single note:  
> Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi -  
> A new chapter. Still unbetaed, so all the mistakes are on me. Also thanks for the bookmarks and kuddos, and I hope you enjoy it.

How the night progressed:

The Cowboys won the game, their food was on the house for their trouble ( _But_ _Russian beer best, you pay!_ ), Jordie confiscated Jamie’s car keys, and Jason and Sharpy had the wits to part ways with them before things got ugly.

Blame everything on Jordie!

“Hi, baby, it’s me. Yeah, everything okay, it was a good game, kind of. Listen, something came up and I’m walking Jamie home. His car is okay… Yeah, I can change a flat! This joke is getting old, you know… Mia, no, baby, really, we’re fine. Stay put, don’t wake Isha. We’ll be fine, Jamie needs the fresh air… A little, some, yeah. You making up the guest room? That’s my girl! Love you, too. See you soon.” 

“I’m not drunk!”

“Of course not.”

 “I can drive.”

“You can walk too.”

_Compromise, Jamie, 50-50._

“We car pooled. You have the keys. You can drive, I won’t cause any trouble.”

“I feel like walking, so just move.”

“You not the boss of me, Jordie!”

“How old are you again?”

Okay, so Jamie was as cranky as a spoiled kid was. He admitted it was the first sign of his drunkenness. Perhaps he really needed the fresh air, but he was a very proactive drunk… or could be… Had to now that he learned he was condemned to spend the rest of his life alone and lonely and Tyler-less.

“I’m going home alone, to _my_ house. My misery don’t want your company.”

Jordie offered him his phone. “No problem, Chubbs! Mia is speed-dial one. You tell her she’s making up the guest room for nothing.”

Jamie drunk-dialing Jordie’s better half and badass embodiment of their mother _and_ Jenny to go against a direct order of hers? He wasn’t that wasted.

He cursed out aloud – three sheets to the wind, he could – and started their long 40-minute walk back to Jordie’s.

“Thought so. Don’t worry, Chubbs, won’t bother you none. Keeping my unwanted company right on your miserable six, all right?”

“Stop quoting DiNozzo!”

Jordie laughed and Jamie resigned to his fate. At least his would be the best protected and guarded six this side of Dallas.

Didn’t mean he had to make things easy for his brother.

*****

“Chubbs…”

“Don’t!”

*****

“Come on, man…”

“  “

“Silent treatment was cute when we were kids and you were mad because you didn’t get to eat the last cookie in the jar.”

“   “

“You’ve always been an annoying mute, you know.”

“   “

“Whatever.”

*****

“A coffee shop.”

“   “

“Not cute, bro.”

“   “

“Come on, Jamie, you need the caffeine. It will help with your future-non-hangover.”

That was a valid point.

“I’m not drunk!”

“IT SPEAKS!”

Jamie gave up. Jordie made it really hard for people to stay mad at him. “It also has a foul mouth. Don’t push it.”

“But it’s smiling.” Jamie was and Jordie looked relieved. “Come on, I’m buying. Order the after-binge beverage of your heart’s desire and I’ll get it for you.”

 _Tyler, Tyler’s baby, the longing to touch Tyler’s future bump the same way Geno had touched his husband’s_ … Right now Jamie didn’t have much of a heart to desire for anything but for the ones he couldn’t have.

“A espresso. Make it double.”

“Got it!”

“And water. Two bottles.”

“Two? Okay, cool, you need to hydrate.”

“And a cookie.”

“The fuck, Jamie!”

“   “

“Anything else? Maybe a kidney after all the booze?” Jordie asked, rolling his eyes.

Kidney was fine. A new heart, maybe.

“A pony.”

“Shut up.”

“You promised me one when I was six.”

The finger, the door closing, and despite everything Jamie was still smiling.

*****

“You still mad I made you come with me?”

The espresso, the cookie, a mint drop, the two bottles of water and three piss-stops later, ( _Told you to drink slowly, Chubbs!_ ) they turned the corner to Jordie’s street. Time to talk as little or as much as Jamie wanted, Jordie’s strategy since they had reached their teens and Jamie went through his short lived sullen phase. Another fifteen-minute walk would put Jamie right on his own doorstep, but he was glad Jordie hadn’t made it a choice for him, at least for now.

“My misery is glad you didn’t listen to her,” Jamie said with the little humor he could muster. The night air as well as the walk had helped, his head was less foggy, but the ache was still there, a bothering reminder of things that would never be, that Jamie couldn’t have. “She can even put up with you to at least have another cup of coffee. Will there be coffee?” He asked when his brother’s two story house came into view.

Jordie laughed and threw an arm around Jamie’s shoulder, big brother protective instinct and all the shit that made Jordie the best out there. “Can be provided, Chubbs. Knowing Mia, the timer in the coffee machine is already set.”

Before they reached the steps to the lit front porch, Jordie touched Jamie’s elbow to stop him. “You know you’re not a hostage here, Chubbs, but I’d feel better if you stayed the night. Mia and I will grant you as much privacy as the parents of a six year old who will get too excited when she wakes up in the morning an learns her beloved Uncle Benn spent the night can.”

This was Jordie at twenty-eight offering Jamie a treat from his hidden stash of candy because their dad had eaten the last cookie in the jar, or drawing Jamie a smiling pony with mismatched ears, too long mane and tail, like Jenny’s little pony toys, because Santa had failed to deliver the one Jamie had asked for Christmas at six.

Jamie could cry his drunk-Tyler-induced-helplessness away and blame it on the liquor he had yet to sweat off his system, or he could…

“THE FUCK! Get off me, Jamie!”

Do as he did as a kid and catch his brother by surprise, jump on his back and laugh his tears of misery away. Jordie’s back was broad and strong enough for either.

“SHIT!”

Well, it used to be. Jordie lost his balance, stumbled and fell, landing them both face first in his front lawn. They rolled onto their backs belching out laughter that tasted like grass and dirty and reeked of beer and the vodka Geno had offered to their group as a courtesy. Jordie eventually sat back and smiled as he watched Jamie wipe the corner of his eyes and giggle into the night.

“Feel any better?” Jordie asked after some time.

“Yeah, I… yeah,” Jamie said staring at the cloudless night and trying not to dot Tyler’s face into the meager stars scattered in the sky. “I’ll be fine, Jordie. I just had, you know, plans for… you know.”

“Plans can change, but not tonight. Come on.” Jordie got onto his feet and offered Jamie his hand. “Let’s get you inside. You can take a shower, have some coffee, and then we can talk about it, if you want to.”

“No more chick flick moment tonight, please,” Jamie grunted and stretched his back before following Jordie up the steps and into the house. “But we will talk soon.”

Jordie unlocked the door and ushered Jamie inside. The foyer light was on and they could smell fresh coffee in the kitchen.

“Baby, I’m home,” Jordie called softly, dropping his keys in the glass bowl right next to the picture of him and Mia smiling and sandwiching Lady B in a tight embrace. Jamie had taken that picture at Dallas Demonstration for Gay Rights a couple of years ago. They all had worn matching T-shirts supporting Jamie’s right to get married, and Jordie had half joked half prophesied that soon it would be him taking Jamie’s family picture. Soon hadn’t sounded so distant that day, when the spot that would be next to Jamie was nameless and faceless.

“In the kitchen, love. And the swear jar on the table better be ten dollars thicker by the time you get here.”

Mia was a 5’ nothing beauty that in high heels barely reached Jordie’s shoulder. She also sounded ten feet taller than both Benn brothers put together any time she had to call them out for acting as the kids they used to be growing up in BC. Jaime didn’t hesitate to drop a five before following Jordie to the kitchen.

Mia left the papers she was sorting through on the table to stand up and greet them. She was already in her robe and pajamas, face free of any makeup, braided hair bundled atop her head in a bun too complex for Jamie to understand, rumpled and tired, and still his brother looked her as if she represented everything beautiful and perfect God’s green earth had to offer.

“Swear jar is invalid when Isha’s in bed,” Jordie protested, tipping her face up for a kiss.

“Not when it’s past ten and two-foul-mouthed grown men are being ridiculous out in the street.” She turned around and smiled at Jamie. “And tomorrow if I get any complaints from the neighbors, be ready to drop another ten.”

Jamie laughed and hugged her. “Trust you to marry a bossier version of our mother, Jordie. Where’s the coffee?” Mia pointed the counter behind her and Jamie rushed there, more to get away from the couple than for the real need for coffee. “Want some, Jordie? Mia?”

“Not for me, thanks. I was going to bed when me and the neighbors heard you outside.”

Jordie laughed and shook his head no. “Did Isha go to bed all right?”

“Yes, but she wants you to go there and kiss her goodnight,” Mia said, collecting her papers and putting them in colorful folders.

“I will, of course. Oh, have you set an appointment with the pediatrician Abby recommended? Dr. Lewis, isn’t it?”

“Yes, next Tuesday at ten.”

“Ten? I guess I can work around it, right boss?”

“Not your boss. Sorry, can’t help you,” Jamie said distracted by the easy domesticity of things.

Mia laughed. “You don’t have to go, baby. It’s just a routine check.”

“And have another fucker questioning my right to be there when I have to take her to the doctor by myself? She uses my insurance, for Christ’s sake! So, no, thank you, love, but I’ll meet you guys there at ten.”

“Hey, it’s oaky,” Mia said, hugging Jordie around the waist. “I’m team!Jordie all the way, love.” Jordie dropped a kiss in her forehead and said nothing.

Lady B’s paternity was a touchy subject to Jordie. Unfortunately, Jamie had seen it happen more than once when in the company of his brother’s little family, or when him himself took Lady B out for a movie and some ice cream. The Benns were Caucasian, Mia and Lady B were not, and theirs was the kind of love story that would have ended up with everybody in prison sixty years ago.

The possibility of him and Jordie sharing a cell then was almost laughable, considering Jamie couldn’t even find a serious boyfriend now that gay marriage had been legalized. Sixty years ago, when queers were destined to lurk in the shadows and live their lives in constant fear of being caught, Jamie would probably have died a virgin.

“Mommy, is daddy home? I think I hear his voice…”

Lady B came into the kitchen smelling like kid’s soap and innocence, the right combination to melt any trace of hanger coloring Jordie’s voice not a minute ago.

“Hey, my little Isha-Isha, what are you doing up?” The care in Jordie’s touch, the love and respect in his eyes as he kissed and cradled Lady B in his arms would validate any test biology couldn’t if the fuckers would just care and pay attention. “You should be in bed.”

“I had to go potty and heard you. You said a bad word. You have to drop a five in the swear jar.” She yawned and rubbed her face against Jordie’s. Then she blinked and finally saw Jamie and made grabby hands at him. “Hi, Uncle B.”

Jamie caught one of her hands and kissed her nose. “Hi, kiddo, how are you doing?”

“Good.” Another yawn. “Are you sleeping here?”

Jamie made his decision then and there. “Yeah,” he said, winking at Jordie.

“Did you go potty?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“So bedtime for you, little miss. Say good night.”

“Night again, mommy. Night, Uncle B.”

“Night baby. Nice dreams.”

“I’ll tuck her in and take a shower. Will you be all right?” Jordie asked him.

“Is Uncle B sick, daddy?”

“No, I’m good, kiddo. Your dad worry too much,” he said, kissing his niece’s forehead. “Night, Lady B.”

“Night, Uncle B. I’ll let you sleep with Bert the Bee so you won’t be alone, okay?”

Jamie smiled and kissed her forehead again. “Thanks, kiddo. Love you.”

“Be ready to go at six, Jamie. I’ll see you upstairs, Mia. Come on, kid, night Jamie.”

Jamie helped himself to a second cup of coffee while Mia checked the doors and windows downstairs. “Jordie sounded a little worried.”

“Nothing a good night sleep in the company of plushy Bert, the Bee won’t solve.”

Mia laughed and rinsed the coffee pot. “I wish I had a miracle worker like Bert the Bee for each of the cases in those folders. Man, why is it so hard for people to step up and take responsibilities every time they fuck up? And no, Isha is not here. I’m not dropping anything in that jar!”

“Cheater!”

“I’m not.” Mia sounded tired, but humored him. “Really, Jamie. So much of those would never exist if people just took care of themselves, practiced safe sex,” she said, pointing the folders piled up on the table. “Those are from the shelter I volunteer. Three of those cases are HIV positive, two are pregnant and got kicked out of their houses, the other one is a sixteen-year-old carrier. Being pregnant should be a moment of happiness, not for tears and grief. They’re so young.” She sighed and put the folders in her briefcase. “Sorry, Jamie. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess it’s been a bad night for man issues all around.”

“Oh!” She reluctantly curled her fingers around his wrist. “Are you okay? Any scare of any kind?”

Not a scare, only a reality that wasn’t meant for him to live. “No, I protect myself, don’t worry. I would step up and take responsibility, you know. If it ever happened.”

“It will happen,” she amended. “And you know why?” He shrugged and waited for her answer. “Because you are one of the good guys, Jamie,” she said, patting him right above his heart. “You would never turn these,” she pointed her briefcase, “into a case of grief.” She squeezed his wrist again and let him go. “I left clean towels and some of Jordie’s pajamas in your bed. There’s a disposable toothbrush for you, too.”

“Disposable toothbrush? Sounds naught!”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Gross, no!”

“I wouldn’t tell anyway,” she laughed. “Sleep well, Jamie.”

“You too, Mia, and thank you. For the talk.”

‘You are welcome. Don’t stay up late.”

Jamie rinsed his cup and put it in the dishwasher, then he turned off the lights and made his way upstairs.

He got his stuff and tiptoed his way to the bathroom down the hall. He felt tons cleaner and lighter after his shower, but something was bothering him.

AS he drifted off into sleep with Bert the Bee sharing his pillow, he didn’t quite know what it was, but somehow grief and pregnancy were involved.

 _And Tyler, always Tyler_.

 ******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
